Humanity
by Opal Roseblossom
Summary: Lying in a field Alice thinks about her lost human memories. "I lift up my hand and watch as the sun beam dances, delighted, over it. The light refracts on my hard skin, bending and twisting with the summer heat."


**AN: I do not own Twilight. That would be Stephanie Meyer. You don't see me with millions of dollars, now, do you?**

Humanity

I lift up my hand and watch as the sun beam dances, delighted, over it. The light refracts on my hard skin, bending and twisting with the summer heat. I let it fall to the ground, watching the brightness run after it, following it loyally to the ground.

The damp grass soaks my designer clothes. The knees of my pants are stained a light green from where I slid into place. My pupils dilate as I open my eyes to the sun.

My throat burns faintly. My hunger is, at the moment, sedated. Were I to look in the mirror I would see that my eyes were a deep gold, attractive even to myself. Still, I can feel it, that longing for human blood. It never goes away. Usually, however, I can ignore it. At the moment I am so relaxed and I allow my senses to open, and the discomfort is brought to my attention. I train my ears to the distance to distract myself.

The others play. Even Jasper runs freely today, running with his hands outstretched for a childish game of tag. I, for once, do not join them. This empty meadow is too tempting, its beauty is too simplistic for me to ignore.

I lie on my back, still, simply because I can. My body is as hard as rock, my hands ache to twitch, but I resist.

Bella had lain here before, sharing her memories with the rest of the coven. She recalled how it used to feel to rest on a hot summer's day, as if your body were shutting down and sinking into the ground.

I wonder what that would be like. I shut my eyes and watch the colours dance beneath my lids. I take a deep, but unnecessary, breath, as if it would make a difference. I try to imagine the feeling of tiredness. They say that it is as if you do not want to move, as if you couldn't if you tried.

I cannot even begin to fathom that. Now, as I lie here silently, my body quivers with energy. I itch to dance and to play. I am trying to discipline myself.

But, no, this lost experience is not there. I vibrate in anticipation. My body scoffs at the idea of tiredness. I cannot dig it from the pit of my mind as the others seem to be able to.

For them the past is fuzzy. It is like a completely different era, a less real one.

For me it is not even there.

I think back to the early days of my memory. I remember awakening and knowing nothing.

If I walk back any farther I fall.

Maybe I could retrieve my past, buried under the layers that are the years of my false-life.

I just don't always like what lays back there.

What if I had been some horrible person? What if I had killed others, or robbed them, or tortured them? I don't think that I could bare it.

What if I had been a monster even before I was turned?

It is a difficult idea. There's so much that waits, dormant, somewhere in my mind.

They say that I had visions even before I was bitten. Maybe I was never mortal, just always supernatural.

I don't remember the asylum. But if I think hard enough I can imagine it.

I can imagine the absolute despair that came from the belief that I was entirely insane. I would have never been so alone in my life. Not only did I have nobody to care for me, but there was nobody in the world like me. I would not have understood my gifts, and I would have hated them.

I cannot even dare to consider life without my family. I must have been miserable, so alone. I hate being alone.

Though I believe that is how it would have been, I am not sure. It would feel terrible. But feelings of any sort would be better than none at all.

Everyone else had been a human. Every other Cullen had, in one point in their long life, possessed some humanity.

Except me.

It is hard to live a full life. Because being what I am, no life is ever really full. I have not even the memories to sustain me.

When I look back I am empty. I was born as a woman and as a vampire. I was never a child, I was never a human. This is hard for me, because everyone else had been both. It is the natural progress of life.I seem to defy this.

It is as if I am a tree who did not start from a seed. It is as if I am a piglet who has no sow.

It is there, and it is not there, this past of mine. I am entangled in the future, though I often wish I was not.

How can I see the future without a past? Maybe the future is my past. Maybe the happenings of others become me.

Sometimes I find it hard to think of myself as a person. I am a tool, placed on this earth to help others in their quests and adventures. I am a symbol of the uncertainty of fate. I am a plot device in the ever-changing story that is our lives. I do not have my own tale, I sit on the sidelines, pushing others along.

I try to think as hard as I can for a second. I try to penetrate that dark, looming void in my head. But there is nothing there.

I am empty.

Because how can I have humanity if I was never a human?

My family calls to me, and I open my eyes, grinning. They shout playful insults, hoping to get a rise from me.

I shoot upwards and takle Jasper, who had made a very rude comment about my singing, to the ground.

I try not to sulk too frequently. I am blessed, I know. It is unfair to them that I insist on pouting over something that cannot be fixed.

But even as I run and laugh I still feel that aching spot in my chest. It is that nihility that will always be there, the cavity where my life as a human should be. It was taken from me, stolen by the fates themselves.

I want to get it back more than anything.

I have eternity to try.

**AN: Reviews would be wonderful, and paid for in tasty (virtual) popcorn that can accompany a viewing of the new Twilight movie. **

**Concrit is much welcome. It would make my life if you would give me some. **

**Also, I finished NaNoWriMo! Yay! I just needed to inform people of taht. **


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